The Blind Side of Life
by fluffy2001
Summary: Takes places after Lucifer Rising. Sam must detox again, and this time Dean joins him in the panic room for his own safety as well. Dean's POV as he experiences the slow anguish of watching his brother fall apart all while contemplating the future.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Here's another idea that kept nagging me and my busy life until it made its way to paper. It's a different one for me, but I'm thrilled with it. It takes place immediately after Lucifer Rising. Sam must go through detox again, and this time Dean stays in the panic room with him, for his own safety is in question as well. I've seen a lot of fics contemplating the events after Lucifer Rising, but I'm certain what I have here is a much different slant. **

**This is entirely from Dean's POV and shows the slow anguish he has to go through in watching Sam fall apart while contemplating what happens with him and the world next. I intended this to be a one shot, but in editing I added this and that, and next thing you know it's a small multi-chapter story. This will only be two or three chapters. Also this one bounces around in time a bit, so I tried to use subtitles to minimize confusion. **

**For any of you that follow my House stuff, something new is coming from there as well. It's kind of a sequel to Primary Care, post season five. I just had to get this one out first!**

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The Blind Side of Life

His eyes didn't have much to turn to, focusing on the almost blinding light bouncing through the slow swirl of fan blades. To think that not to long ago he liked the symbolism, the ethereal light coming through the pentagram, hinting protection. Today it meant nothing. He wasn't sure what was worse, never believing in God and angels or beginning to believe in them only to have that faith yanked away by the cruel reality of the universe.

Dean Winchester thought he had seen it all in his lifetime, but nothing could have prepared him for what had happened over the last few days. The end is near, that's an understatement. The end is here, and it sucks.

He was tired. Tired of fighting wars, tired of being pulled back and forth between good and evil like he was a rag doll, and tired of climbing those damn wooden stairs of Bobby's basement. He'd been up and down them plenty of times in his lifetime with no issues other than the musty smell hitting him in the face, but lately, each step only made him wearier. A promise was a promise though, and this time he wouldn't let Sam down.

He let out a quick sigh, propping himself up on his elbows on the cot, checking to see if anything had changed on the other side of the confined space. It hadn't. He dropped back down onto his back, wondering how much longer this would take. It was bad the last time, now it was far worse.

To think only two days ago he and Sam were coming back from Maryland. The trip was quiet, a little too quiet. Driving Ruby's mustang felt strange and he longed for the roar and rugged feel of his baby again. He was eager to give the car to Bobby and let him do something with it. He smiled at the thought of it being painted black and hanging with the Impala. He wiped that thought from his mind though when he remembered it was still that skank's car. Maybe a burning would be better.

Sam wasn't comfortable the entire trip. Dean wondered if the car reminded Sam too much of what Ruby had done to him, if his guilt over setting Lucifer free was overwhelming him, or if the demon blood withdrawal had kicked in. Probably all three. Whatever was bothering Sam, he refused to talk about it. He didn't say a single word the entire journey, that is until they crossed South Dakota state line.

"I gotta dry out."

"Okay," Dean agreed. "I can help this time."

Sam's didn't react positively or negatively to the offer. He turned his hollow eyes and stone face toward the window and lost himself again.

When they arrived at Bobby's, Sam without pause climbed out of the car and went inside, heading straight for the basement. Bobby held him back before he reached the stairs.

"I'm sorry Sam."

"I need to be locked up now Bobby."

"Sam, I'm not going to treat you like a caged animal this time. There's no reason."

"There's every reason." Sam brushed by him and headed down the stairs.

Dean joined a saddened Bobby, telling him with his drained expression that the trip was rough. "This might kill him," Bobby said when Sam was out of sight.

"I think he wants that," Dean answered. Bobby's face cast downward in sadness and fear what might happen.

Dean snapped back to reality at the sound of Sam's grunting and a quick jerking. He got up and raced over to his brother, who was flat on his back on the cot. Sam eyes rolled around in a total daze while intermittent convulsions rattled his body and grew harder. Sam hadn't been peaceful in his rest the last few hours, but he hadn't had an attack like this one in a while. Dean had been hoping they were done. Apparently not.

Dean leaned over Sam and held onto his sweat soaked cheeks, trying to force eye contact. "Sam, Sam, come on, it's me. Time to pull it together man." Sam didn't respond to his brother's words, lost in his own private Hell.

"Please Sam!"

Sam continued to struggle for several more minutes and Dean's heart dropped, for he was losing hope. This could finally be it for Sam. In a way death wouldn't be so bad. If anyone deserved peace at this point, it would be Sammy. The small thought of comfort was short-lived though, for he wasn't sure Sam would find peace in the great beyond either. He couldn't even pray this time, for he was Heaven's fugitive.

"Stop fighting Sammy. Let go." Eventually Sam's convulsions lessened, his head lolled softly to the side and his eyes closed. Dean's heart pounded as he gazed at his ghost white brother, afraid to check to see if Sam was gone or not. He saw the slight rise and fall in his chest and felt relief. Sam was still alive.

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_Two Days Earlier_

Dean and Bobby went down the creaky stairs, finding Sam had already gotten settled in the panic room. Dean noticed the modifications. Aside from the fact there was more furniture in there, including two beds, there were new symbols on the floor surrounding the devil's trap and on the door.

"Angel proofing?" Dean asked, recognizing some of those symbols from the funeral home in their spirit encounter with Alastair.

"I hope it's enough. Demons I get, angels..."

It suddenly hit Dean. "That's how Sam got out before." He wanted to kick himself for being so blind to their deception.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking, thus the changes," Bobby noticed Dean was only half listening. "It's not a bad idea you stay there with him. You both need to lay low for a while."

Dean brought his attention back to Bobby and nodded. "You're right about that." He stepped through the portal and saw Sam sitting on the cot, his thoughts a mile away.

"You yell if you need anything," Bobby said, closing the door. Dean saw that the latch was still missing on the inside. He wasn't surprised that the intent was more than to keep the bad things out. Bobby had every right to be cautious of Sam.

_He can get us anything?_ Dean thought while pacing around, examining the place. Given Sam's state, hookers were out. He'd also recently lost his taste for burgers. He worked his way over to his cot and got comfortable. "So, it seems we're both in here for a while."

Sam didn't answer, his eyes fixed on his lap. Sam was already having trouble staying still, his legs and arms twitching in an uncoordinated fashion.

"I can see if Bobby's got a deck of cards or something."

"No thanks," Sam softly replied.

Dean accepted Sam's mood, for he knew he and Sam both didn't take guilt very well. Sam didn't pry when he was in the hospital and refused to talk about his meltdown with Castiel. Sam didn't judge when he told him he broke the first seal. Sam just quietly listened and tried to tell him it wasn't his fault. They both knew that didn't offer comfort, but he appreciated the gesture anyway. Now it was his turn, and Dean wasn't sure silence was the best thing.

"Sam, uh, look, I know you're pretty broken up about everything. I understand that you don't want to talk about it, but maybe saying a little something wouldn't hurt."

"What's there to say Dean? You know what I did."

"Sam, it wasn't your fault."

Sam squinted and pressed his lips, fighting whatever emotional rise hit him. "I don't want to talk about it," his terse voice said.

Dean nodded and examined the nearby pile of skin magazines Bobby had left. He didn't want to look at scantily clad women right now, but needed to keep up appearances with Sam. He raised an eyebrow at a hot babe shot and grinned. Sam sighed, laid down and rolled over, his shaking a little more pronounced. Dean frowned and put down the magazine, feeling really tired himself. He settled down and was asleep in no time.

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_8 hours later_

Dean tried to ignore the sound of Sam's boots clomping against the concrete floor, but they grew faster and louder. He opened one eye, seeing the jittery mess. "Sam?"

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam said, sweat pouring into his already drenched hair. His teeth were chattering as well, like he was cold, but he looked too warm.

"It's okay Sammy."

"You always said you didn't want me to become a monster. Why haven't you hunted me by now?"

"We both did this. Remember, I started it. I'm not hunting you." Dean came to realize that Sam wasn't looking at him and or responding.

"Just go ahead. Do it. You'll be doing me a favor." Sam faced the vacant spot, swaying back and forth on his unsteady feet. Then he flung open the top part of his shirt exposing his upper chest. "Just do it already!"

Dean walked up to Sam, who was waiting for something to happen. He waved his hand in front of Sam, but he didn't notice it. "Perfect," he said sarcastically. "The lights are burning bright but nobody's home."

"Why won't you kill me? I haven't been myself for a while now. I'm evil Dean. You should have listened to dad."

Dean wasn't sure what to do. Either let Sam work through this hallucination, or try to snap him out of it.

"Fine!" An angry Sam said, letting go of his shirt. "Give me the knife and I'll do it myself." Sam was breathing heavily now, and after a few seconds didn't seem to like whatever answer he got. He yelled and charged after nothing, swiping at air like he was trying to grab something. "Give it to me!"

Dean rushed over and grabbed Sam, restraining his arms so he wouldn't clock him one. "Wake up Sam! You're hallucinating!"

Sam still struggled so Dean tackled him onto the cot and pinned him down. Sam wouldn't stop squirming underneath him. "Damn you Dean. You should have put a bullet in my brain when you had the chance."

Dean rolled Sam over and looked at those sunken, pained eyes. He shook him hard. "Wake up Sam!"

Suddenly Sam's faraway gaze disappeared and he looked at Dean with glassy eyes. "What happened?"

"Your mind went AWOL." Dean let go of a very confused Sam, who went slack on the bed and grabbed his forehead with both hands. He had trouble controlling his breath, looking like he was losing the fight for mental and physical control.

Dean went over to the desk and leaned against it, giving his brother a minute or so to pull it together. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Sam-"

"What do you want me to say? I'll never be fixed. I'll never be alright."

"How can you say that?"

"I can't go back Dean. I unleashed the beast inside. It'll always have control. I was stupid for thinking I wouldn't let it get too far."

"We get this demon blood out of you and you'll be back to what you were before Ruby turned you into a junkie."

"That's not true."

"Why not?"

Sam sighed and raised himself up into sitting position, closing his eyes when the world got a little dizzy in the process. "Ruby told me something after I killed Lilith."

Dean didn't like the long pause. "Well, I'm waiting."

"It wasn't drinking demon blood that made me powerful. I've been that way all along. I've always had it inside me."

"She was lying."

"No Dean, she wasn't."

Dean took a minute to process what Sam was saying. "So you're telling me that bitch got you sucking blood for kicks?"

"To control me, yeah."

Now Dean wished he had killed the bitch sooner. He grumbled it under his breath, but wouldn't let Sam hear it.

"That's not all," Sam said.

"It gets worse?"

"When I was killing Lilith, everything went black."

Dean shrugged. "That's a lot of juice flowing, I'm sure things got fuzzy."

"No, I mean..." Sam sighed, very uncomfortable by what he was trying to explain. "I mean, my eyes went totally black. The power coming from me when that happened, it was-"

Dean gave him an anxious look. "What?"

Sam adjusted himself before giving an answer. "Demonic. I went full demon Dean, black eyes and all. All that's inside of me in full force now. It's never going to go away."

"You can fight it."

"What if I'm forced to use that power? Remember Samhain? What if it isn't a Ruby manipulating me next time? What if it's Lucifer? I'm too dangerous Dean. I should be-"

Dean knew where he was going. "What, dead?"

"Yeah."

"Remember when you told me you wanted to use that evil inside of you for good. You still can. Considering what we're up against, we could use it."

"I set Lucifer free Dean! How can I make that better?"

"We'll come up with something."

"I can't ever leave here Dean. I'll hurt people. I should be caged." Just then Sam got intense chills and his body shook hard. Dean came over, picked up the blanket on the edge of the cot and gently wrapped it around him.

"We'll worry about that later. Let's get you through this."

Dean went back to his cot and watched Sam struggle with the shakes and whatever he just confessed. His hunch was he hadn't heard it all, and hoped he could get more out of Sam later. He had this awful pit in his stomach, for there were no answers right now. Maybe Sam was right. Death might be the only option.

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**a/n: Interested in chapter two? **


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: Wow, the response has been huge. I guess you like it! Thanks so much for the comments and alerts. I had trouble deciding if I should do a long chapter 2, or make this 3 chapters. I went with three. Here's chapter two.**

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_The Next Day_

Dean in his sleepy mind couldn't make out what he was hearing. Noises of someone, someone quivering, pleading..._in fear!_ Dean shot up and found Sam pressed against the wall, squirming to avoid whatever imaginary horror was there. The sheer terror on Sam's face alarmed him, as did his trembling and pleas.

"Sam!" He didn't answer. Dean got worried, for this hallucination was far more intense than the others. He'd never seen Sam this scared.

"Pl...pl...please, I'm so sorry," an agonized Sam begged to the phantom figure in front of him. He broke into small sobs, turned his head to the side and closed his eyes while pressing harder against the wall. Dean surmised whatever was after him was in his face.

"I didn't know. Please forgive me Cindy." Sam whispered with an edge of terror. "I honestly didn't know."

_Cindy? _Dean asked himself. _Oh Sammy, what inner demon are you facing now?_

Dean watched Sam's terror spike even more as he tried to escape but was flung back against the wall. Now it looked like whatever he imagined had him by the throat. Sam fumbled his hands in the air, obviously trying to pull off whatever held him tight. He wasn't succeeding.

Dean jumped forward but then stopped himself. Sam's danger was only in his mind, so he would give it a little longer to play out.

"I didn't want to hurt you Cindy," Sam said among choking noises. "I was tricked. I thought that-" He closed his eyes and let more tears slip as he was released from his chokehold, but now his pained and guilty expression hinted he was getting another tongue lashing.

"I know. I'm sorry," he softly whispered, scurrying against the wall again. "I shouldn't have killed you. I know Dean was right."

That got Dean's attention. _What happened to you Sammy?_

Sam broke into more tears. "I know, just because I wanted to die doesn't mean you had to."

Now Dean had to know what was going on.

Sam stopped his jostling and froze in a panic. "Please...no, no, no!" Sam's eyes bulged and went empty as he grabbed his neck and began to gurgle. He slid down the wall and Dean lunged forward, grabbing him in time before he fell to the floor. Sam went limp in Dean's arms.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, trying to wake his brother. Sam held on to him tight and made noises like he was choking on his own blood. He wondered if Sam believed he was dying in his arms.

"Sam! Wake up!" Despite shaking him harder, it didn't snap Sam out of it. He continued to choke and he struggled a lot less, as if he was giving up. "Sorry Sam, I don't have any choice." Dean punched him across the head real good, knocking Sam out.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted as he dragged an unconscious Sam over to his cot. "Bobby, I need you!" He placed Sam down on the small bed, watching his brother's limbs tremble and twitch slightly. They were still feeling the adrenaline, even if Sam's mind was out.

A minute later Bobby appeared and saw Dean tending to Sam. "What happened?"

"A very nasty acid trip, that's what. This one almost killed him. I had to knock him out."

Bobby's alarmed look showed he knew this was bad. "I got some sedatives upstairs you could inject if he flips out like this again."

"Yeah, we're gonna have to keep him out for a while." Dean's stepped backward and took another long look at Sam, unsure if he was really helping him. He felt Bobby's watchful eyes fall on him, not Sam.

"Bobby, while you're getting stuff, I need Sam's computer."

"What for?"

"I gotta check out some missing person reports."

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_"Nurse Cynthia McClellan was found dead in Howard County, Maryland this morning two days after she was reported missing. Her throat was slashed and most of her blood was drained..."_

Dean's heart sank when he read the headline, when he saw pictures of the devastated family, when he saw the shrine of flowers outside the hospital where she worked. "Oh Sammy," Dean said, realizing another innocent was lost in this stupid demon war. Again it came from the hands of his kin.

Sam was still sedated and couldn't explain himself, so Dean chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. He would have to understand the circumstances that led to such a horrific crime. She was probably possessed, which is why he took her blood. Which was even more senseless, considering he didn't need it. No matter how hard he tried to rationalize, the whole thing ended up sickening him.

"No, please..." Sam quivered, before gurgling again. Dean now knew Sam was hallucinating getting his throat slashed, just like Cindy. Sam's reaction to his trauma got worse, for he started flailing his arms around for air. Dean rushed over with the syringe, holding Sam's arm still before injecting it.

Dean went back to the desk, threw down the empty needle and closed the laptop. He couldn't to read anymore. Maybe the end of the world won't be so bad.

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_Present Day_

Dean heard the loud clang of the iron door opening. At least with that door there would be no sneak attacks.

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked coming into the room.

"Dying." Dean fell back into his cot, leaning against the wall, swiping his damp face with his hand. "I've had to knock him out three times in the last twelve hours. Each time he stirs he starts reliving his own death. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this."

"You gotten any sleep yourself?"

"No." Dean's had plenty of long situations with no sleep, but this had been the most exhausting twelve hours of his life.

"I know Sam appreciates what you're doing."

"Sam's a rotting vegetable right now. He doesn't even know I'm here. I'm getting a little stir crazy. I should be out there, fighting the end of the world."

Dean looked up to see Bobby's face of remorse. "Did you come down just to see how we're doing, or did something happen?"

"Nope, all is quiet. I think the demons are all having a welcome home party for the Grand Poobah. You're better off here right now. Sam needs you more."

Dean's hand worked over to the back of his neck next. It felt too warm. "I wonder where Cas is right now."

"Somewhere safe I hope."

Dean worried that Cas had been found by now. Hopefully he learned some things about hiding from Anna. In the meantime, he didn't know what he should be doing. He was tired of having to come up with all the answers.

"I can't take this slow death stuff Bobby. Every minute waiting is just driving me more nuts. I can't stand to see him suffer like this. I keep thinking..."

"That a bullet in the brain would be better?"

Dean didn't dare answer that. He would feel like a monster admitting that, even though the thought had crossed his mind. He'd never have the courage to do it though, no matter what. "You should get up there and keep checking. Something's bound to happen soon."

"Dean, are you sure-"

"I'm fine Bobby. We'll be fine."

Suddenly Sam started thrashing again on his cot. Mentally he was still out, but within a few seconds his movements got frantic. Dean rolled his eyes, got up, and went for the last dose of sedative at the desk.

"When did you give him the last one?" Bobby asked.

"An hour ago."

"Don't Dean. You could be prolonging the inevitable."

Dean sighed and put the syringe down. "I suppose you're right." Letting go was never his forte.

"I'll be upstairs. You yell if you need anything."

Dean watched Sam convulse harder, and looked at the needle on the table, wondering if withholding the sedative was truly best. His insides turned at the idea, but maybe Bobby was right. If this was it for Sam, let it be it. He dropped down on his cot and the fatigue and worry got the better of him. It was time to cry for his brother.

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_8 Hours Later_

The sound of the solid iron door opening jarred Dean from his few hours of rest, but he was glad to hear it. Hopefully it meant Bobby was doing another food run. He was starving.

"Just in time Bobby I-" Dean froze over who was really there. He was flooded with relief.

"Cas, you're alive." He went to the door, seeing that Castiel was a good distance from the entrance, against the opposite wall. The angel proofing must be working. Dean stepped outside of the panic room, eager to speak to his visitor.

"Stop Dean," Castiel said. "You could be detected."

"I don't give a damn." Dean stepped closer and saw Bobby behind the door.

"Any change?" Bobby asked.

"No," Dean answered somberly.

Bobby nodded. "I'll leave you two to talk."

"Thanks Bobby." Dean looked at Castiel while Bobby worked his way up the stairs. The angel never really looked good, but Dean could tell something was new under his usual rumpled exterior. Maybe an angel with a new purpose.

"How's Sam?" Dean moved aside so Castiel could see for himself.

"Crappy, thanks for asking." Dean was used to Cas' sympathetic pauses, but the one he was getting now seemed different. Those blue eyes seemed to have more spark, but that could be a trick of the lighting.

"I'm glad you're alright Dean."

"Come on Cas, enough with the formalities. Why did you risk coming here? You know the angel command center is monitoring the obvious places."

"They can't find me here. Your friend Bobby has assured it."

Dean saw Castiel's expression change to a worried stare. He wished Bobby and Cas would stop looking at him like that. Sam was the one who was dying.

"Dean, I'm going to get Anna back."

"You know she's alive?"

"Despite what you think of us, killing angels is forbidden, even fallen ones. It is one of the highest orders. Why do you think Lucifer was imprisoned?" Castiel dropped his eyes to the floor, his face now pained with guilt. "Anna's going through the same horrors right now that I did. She won't bend though, for she's a lot stronger. I need to save her, so she can help us in our fight."

Dean felt somewhat encouraged by Cas' new fighting spirit. "Can I help?"

"No. Your role is much too vital. Zachariah spoke the truth about one thing. Your purpose is more important than ever."

"What about Sam?"

Castiel looked at him earnestly. "I don't know."

"Will he survive?"

"I don't know that either. Now that he's played his intended role, there might not be use for him anymore. He could be hunted."

That bothered Dean quite a bit, and he turned to see his half dead brother, shaking uncontrollably while in delirium. _No, no, I can't give up on him. _Dean turned back to Castiel full of hope. "You still have your angel mojo. I'll bring Sam out here and you can heal him."

"I'm afraid I can't."

"You don't have to play by the rules anymore Cas! Who's gonna stop you?"

"It's not that Dean. I can heal humans. I cannot heal demons. He's fully turned now. I'm unable to help."

Dean's heart dropped, for he had to face that reality again. No matter what he does, his brother will never be the same. "I can't let him die Cas, demon or not. He's my brother too."

"That he is. That's likely his only hope."

Dean turned away and pushed back the weepy feeling spiking inside him. He was tired of grieving, tired of worrying, tired of life. When was he going to be able to make a difference? "I really wish I had the chance to kick some angel butt along with you. I'm itching for a fight."

Castiel put his hand gently on Dean's shoulder, and Dean was suddenly overcome by serenity. Man did he need it. "You are your brother's keeper. Your time for battle will come soon enough. In the meantime, it's okay to pray. Only God is listening."

Dean felt so overwhelmed he didn't know what to say. All he could do was deliver appreciation with a weary glance.

Castiel dropped his arm and stepped backward. "I'll keep in touch. Goodbye Dean."

Dean felt the breeze from wings flapping hit him in the face. He exhaled, gazed at the stairs and craved for some fresh air. He wasn't only tired, but stir crazy as well. Then he looked into the panic room and was shocked that Sam wasn't shaking anymore. He was actually calm. Maybe there was hope after all. Dean looked at the stairs one more time, sighed, and went back into the panic room to be by his brother's side.

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**a/n: Chapter 3 coming in a day or two. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Here it is, the rest of it. Thanks so much for all your interest in this one. I really appreciate all of you taking time to read another one of my strange musings.**

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"Kill me," Sam barely mustered with a cracked voice.

Dean looked up from his book, wondering if Sam was talking in his sleep again. Of course considering Sam had been still and quiet for a while, this was an interesting development.

"Dead," Sam slurred, his head lolling weakly back and forth.

Dean got up to investigate, and found two barely cracked open hazel eyes staring at him. "Sam?"

"Must-" Sam's throat couldn't get out anymore, and any attempts to clear it were hampered by intense dryness in his mouth. Dean alertly went to the table, got a cup of water, and brought it back to Sam. Sam's half open eyes craved the drink, but he didn't lift his arm or head to take it. Dean propped Sam's head up, holding the cup to his lips, hoping Sam wasn't too weak to swallow. Sam gulped it down like he'd been roving the desert for days.

"More?" Dean asked.

Sam's head gently shook enough where Dean could tell that was a no.

Sam's expression didn't show any relief once Dean put his head back down on the pillow. If anything, he was more distressed. "Why am I alive?" Sam asked, his voice much clearer now.

"I don't know," replied Dean. "It's not your time I guess."

"I should be dead."

"Yeah, well so should I." The irony of that was never lost on him.

Sam rolled his head again, pressing his lips together and closing his eyes while a few tears fell down his cheeks. A few seconds later he opened his still barely lucid eyes, looking at his brother with distress. "I can't live. I must be punished."

Dean wanted to be patient with his brother, understanding his weakened state, but his nerves were pretty raw right now. "We covered this about ten times during your hallucinations. You're not dying."

That caused Sam to break into sobs. "I'm evil Dean. Please."

"You're talking nonsense Sam. I'm not killing you. Do you know what it's been like to watch you-" Dean stopped himself. He couldn't lay a guilt trip on Sam. Not when he was this frail.

Sam broke down again and Dean realized his brother was far beyond sound mind right now, even though he wasn't hallucinating. Dean gave him some time to get it out, pacing back and forth to get out his own nervous energy.

"I'm not human anymore," Sam said.

"I don't care." Dean hovered over Sam, making sure he got the message. "I'm not giving up on you, no matter what you are. Killing you in this state would make me no better than the whackjobs we go after."

Sam let more tears slide, but maintained better control. "I can't be saved Dean."

"For the last time, no. Your blood will not be on my hands. It's not fair of you to ask."

"Fair?" Sam struggled with his shallow emotional state, heaving short breaths until he took a long deep one. "Nothing about this has ever been fair. Remember what you told me?"

"Sam, I said I was sorry about the monster thing."

"No, you warned me about having blind faith. How you've seen what evil does to good people." Sam let out a couple more anxious sighs. "I was so desperate for redemption that I couldn't tell evil from good. You knew how evil blinds, how it twists desires. Why didn't I listen?"

"That's enough Sam."

"You've always been right, whatever's evil should be killed. I should have killed Ruby when she first appeared. The damage has been done. You need to kill me."

"I said that thing about faith four years ago. Things change. Evil leaves people broken, but not beyond hope. I believe that now."

"Yeah, but I'm not a normal person, am I? Look at me Dean. I don't even have the strength to get out of this bed. I'm beyond hope."

"That does it." Dean briskly went over to the table and grabbed the filled syringe. "I can't take this crazy self pity anymore. You're too much of a head case right now."

"Don't do this to me Dean." Sam moved his arms and legs slightly, but he was far too weak to do more than that. "Drugging me won't fix things. If you knew what was good for this world, you'd inject an empty needle instead."

"Yeah, well apparently I don't." He plunged the device into Sam's arm. Sam eyes rolled to the back of his head and he faded away within seconds.

Dean leaned over Sam, pleased that he wasn't talking anymore. "If you die, you're dying with a purpose."

"Bobby!" Dean yelled as loud as he could. He gazed at his fallen brother while hearing footsteps coming down the stairs. The door opened but Dean's eyes never left Sam, all while he held the empty syringe.

"I've had enough Bobby. We're done hiding," Dean said, throwing the hollow needle on the table. "Help me get Sam upstairs."

"Is this what Sam wants?" Bobby asked.

"He wants to die. He's got a better chance of that happening upstairs because I refuse to kill him."

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_One Day Later_

"What the hell do you want now?"

Dean looked up from the computer, watching Bobby have his heated conversation on the phone in the kitchen. _It must be Rufus again. _His eyes moved over to Sam, who was still out on the couch. He shook his head, wondering if Sam was ever going to wake up. First the sedatives didn't work long enough, and now he's been out for almost a day. None of this made sense, but as Bobby so wisely noted, it's not like there's a demon detox manual.

Dean went back to the computer, but he wasn't sure why. He'd been researching and combing news wires for hours. _All quiet on the western front._ He thought about giving it a rest, but what else would he do? As much as he was dying for a drive in the Impala right now with the windows down, he couldn't leave Sam alone and unprotected. There were too many uncertainties looming.

Dean heard Bobby slam down the phone with a "perfect" and looked up in time to see him race over to the couch. "Get over here and help me, now!" Dean did as instructed and took Sam's legs while Bobby took his torso. "We've got to get Sam in the Impala, fast."

Dean's stomach turned sour. "What's wrong Bobby?"

"They're coming after Sam."

"Who, demons? Angels? I can fight them. I'm ready."

"No, other hunters. A bunch heard about Sam's end of the world starting mind trick and decided the boy has been too much trouble for too long. He's public enemy number one now. This is the first place they'll check. I've gotta scram too. We have about a fifteen minute head start."

"We can take them on," Dean insisted.

"No, we can't. We don't know the numbers, what we're up against and Sam's too weak. He's a liability right now. So how about less talking and more getting out of here."

Dean realized Bobby was right and helped him lift Sam. Maybe it was his weakened state from the last few days, but Sam felt heavy and Dean fumbled, almost dropping him. He looked up at Bobby's scorn, sheepishly smiled and tried again.

"I don't know how you boys make it on your own," Bobby said as they went through the front door.

-------------------------------------------

"I'm sorry Dean."

Dean shot awake, for those words were jarring. Maybe because he vividly remembered the last time he heard them, just before Lucifer broke free. He focused his bleary eyes on the shadows in the room, the ones created by the dim light from the motel room window. He jumped when he saw the bed next to his. Sam was sitting upright, legs hanging over the edge. He fumbled for the side table, turning on the light. After he and Sam both adjusted to the brightness, Dean caught Sam looking right at him with coherence.

"Sammy?"

"I'm sorry for not listening to you."

Dean wiped the sleepiness out of his eyes and sat up straight. "I'm not sure what you mean Sam."

"I doubted you and trusted Ruby. You saw right through her all along. She only told me what I wanted to hear. I got too desperate."

Dean was still confused and looked around the room. "Don't you even want to know how we got here?"

"I know there's a good reason. I trust you."

Dean pulled himself out of bed more and sat on the edge facing his brother. Sam's eyes fell to his lap once he did. "Why were you so desperate Sam? Did you need revenge that bad?"

"I was desperate to protect you, to be strong enough for the both of us in saving the world. I really thought I was saving everyone. I was delusional to think any good could come from my abilities. Good can't come from evil."

Dean hesitated, wondering if he should bring this up. He figured now was as good as a time as any. "Sam, the past few days, watching you...anyway, I've had a lot of time to think things through. I found out stuff too, like what you did to that nurse. In putting all the pieces together, something became clear. Did you go into all of this ready to sacrifice yourself?"

"Yes."

Dean was stunned by Sam's quick honesty. Usually he hesitates or avoids such answers. "Why Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "The deeper I got into this and the more I changed inside, there was just no going back. I wanted it to end."

Dean bit the bottom of his lip, for their dad was like that for years. Watching him be reckless like that frightened him. That feeling hadn't changed with Sam. "Don't you see that's where you went wrong? Suicide missions never work. Not only do you get yourself killed, but tons of innocent bystanders as well."

"In this case, about six billion." Sam inhaled a deep breath in distress, but it didn't help. "How could I have been so blind? You know how many innocents are going to die because of me?"

"None if we can prevent it."

"I mean, why do I deserve to live? If I'm not supposed to be dead, then what am I supposed to do? What now Dean?"

Dean got up slowly and sat next to his brother. Dean watched Sam's nervousness, knowing that Sam's new found lucidity was only succeeding in tearing him apart inside. "You know what they say about the blind side of life. All you got to do to get out is open your eyes." Dean wasn't sure if that gave Sam any comfort, but no words likely could at this point.

Sam nodded with apprehension. "Okay." After a short pause, he went on. "Dean, I'm scared."

"Me too."

Sam's shoulders drooped, as if heavy weights were placed on them. "I'm not just scared for myself, I'm scared of hurting more innocent people. I don't trust myself."

"That's what I'm here for, to cover your back."

"You won't always be able to be there. If I'm ever in a situation alone, I know what I have to do."

Dean knew talking sense into Sam was tough. _Just like Dad. _"Sam, I know this isn't going to shock you, but we're in a huge mess. We don't know what the demons have planned for you, or what the angels have planned for me, but it can't be good. Now hunters are after you and I'm sure a few of them would have no problem taking me out too. Chances are we'll die anyway, but let's do it fighting and together. I don't want to die alone, and you shouldn't either."

Sam's guilty look still lingered. "Yeah, maybe. There's still no good reason why I'm alive right now."

"You better believe there's a good reason. You have the power to stop all the crap that's happening. It wasn't just Ruby that led you down the road. The angels set us up too. Both of us. And Cindy too. We've got to show them they can't play with humans like that. And Cas will help too, if he hasn't been captured by now. Let's not let innocents like Cindy die in vain."

Sam's haggard eyes meet his, showing surprise. "Are you talking about revenge?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'm just tired of being messed with. It doesn't matter though, for we can't take the world by storm yet."

"Why not?"

"You still look way too much like shit."

Sam smiled and looked at Dean's unshaven face and red eyes. "Right back at ya."

Dean felt relief over that small sign that his brother was getting back to normal. That changed when he heard the doorknob turn. He went for his gun as the door opened.

"Don't shoot ya idgit."

Dean put the gun down and Bobby gave him a fake smile in appreciation. "Good to see you alive and well Sam."

"Thanks Bobby, for everything."

"What's up?" Dean asked.

"A whole mess of demons in Amarillo."

"Somehow there should be a punchline there," Dean joked.

"You up for it Sam?" Bobby asked.

"Definitely," Sam said, rising to his feet. His legs were wobbly though and he lost balance. Dean grabbed his arm to steady him. "I'm not carrying you to the car," Dean declared.

"He's got a couple of days worth of driving to recover. We better get moving," Bobby said, not in the pampering mood.

Sam winced over his aching joints and stiff limbs, accepting his brother's guidance out of the room. "Just wait, in a few days I'll be able to kick your ass."

"I'll never let that happen again," Dean declared as he led Sam toward the Impala. Truth be told, he couldn't wait for Sam to regain his fighting spirit. It would mean he'd have taken that step away from the blind side. He will have opened his eyes.


End file.
